Blue eyes and a kind smile
by KillianJones
Summary: Emma, engaged to king-to-be Thomas since she was 6, in order to keep her realm rich and strong. Growing up, Emma realised that this princess life was nothing for her. Swordfights and dangerous quests is what she really wanted. She later faces a man whom she's known her whole life, no longer a lieutenant, but a pirate. (Full summary in first chapter.) Rated T for now, M later on.
1. Chapter 1

_Emma Charming, engaged to king-to-be Thomas since she was 6, in order to keep her realm rich and strong. Growing up, Emma came to find that this princess life was nothing for her. Swordfights and dangerous quests is what she really wanted. But she is stuck. Up until she faces a man, who snuck into the castle, with the purpose of stealing on them. But then she realised, upon seeing his face, she had known him her whole life already, for he used part of the King, her father, 's navy. His ship, and men had disappeared, and now he stood in front of her, no longer a lieutenant, but a pirate._

* * *

_Prologue: Emma age 7 and Killian age 11._

"Hello, Emma," the boy's voice is rude and forced, spitting out her name like it tastes foul in his mouth. Emma ignores it and takes a small bow, her dress in her hands.

"Thomas," she smiles a genuine smile. "What a pleasure it is to meet you," the little princess speaks the words her mother chose for her, like reading them off a note in her mind. Keep smiling, bow to him, speak clear and friendly, and above all, be kind. Thomas squints his eyes, his black lashes make his brown eyes even darker, giving his face a meaner look.

"Yes," he simply says. Even though he has only spoken three words to her, it is obvious he is uninterested in being kind to her as well. He looks straight past her at the castle. "I thought it would be bigger," he notes, stepping away from her to get a better look. "I want to see it," he demands while already making his way to the castle. Well, for nine year old he sure is kind of horrible, she lets the thought slip through her thoughts. Her mother takes his mother's arm and guides her through the gardens towards the castle as she continues to praise the kingdom. Emma looks around her, unsure if she should follow. Her father is still in the garden talking to his captain and his son. The boy, couldn't be older than eleven, looks at her, smiling a kind smile and bending down his knees a little. She smiles back at him, not taking her eyes off the boy but he does, he probably learned that staring at royals is rude or impolite. She takes small unsure steps towards her dad, stopping about three feet away from him. The boy looks up again, his blue eyes meeting hers. Her father sees him look at her and smiles.

"Emma," he reaches out his hand for her, signing to come, "Shouldn't you be with Thomas right now?"

"He isn't very kind, father," Emma replies, standing next to him. He nods once.

"This is the new Captain, Mr. Jones and his son, Killian," he introduces the two standing in front of them, "They will live at court with us for the time being," he then lays his hand on his daughter's shoulder, "And this is my daughter, Emma."

" Emma," Captain Jones speaks up first, taking a bow, "You will become a beautiful queen one day." His son opens his mouth but hesitates, looking from her father to her.

"She's already a very beautiful princess," he says after a short moment of silence. She can feel her cheeks colour pink and tries to avoid his look, by looking at her father.

"I could not agree more," David nods, "but we must probably find Thomas again, shouldn't we?" He asks his daughter.

"There is no hurry, father," she tells him, "Do keep talking, I can show Mr. Jones' son the rose garden meanwhile." David looks at his daughter, reading off her face how much she would like to stay outside, or better said, stay away from Thomas. But both know that she'll have to talk to him anyway.

"Why not, it is a rather delightful day indeed, and the roses are at their best this time of the year," he says.

"Follow me," she smiles at the boy, and he does. While they walk he keeps his distance and doesn't say a word. The entrance of the rose garden is a big arch with a hundred red roses, all flowering. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She whispers, gently breaking the silence between them, her small fingers touch the soft red petals of the roses.

"Very beautiful, princess," Killian agrees, his voice as soft as hers.

"They can't hear you," she turns around to face him, he's taller than him, just a little. He looks into her eyes for a brief moment before looking away from her again. "You can call me Emma." He smiles in the distance, laying his eyes on the roses. Red, dark pink, soft pink, white. Every rose in existence is planted in this rose garden. The soft pink roses remind him of Emma's cheeks, when he told her he thought she was beautiful and how easy it was to colour her pale skin.

"You have a beautiful name, princess, but I'd rather not, if they do hear me, I'll be punished," she nods and they continue their walk. He, still keeping his distance, she, just glad she doesn't have to spend time with Thomas.

"Will you not talk to me?" She asks when silence has fallen for too long. He shakes his head.

"It is better if I don't, the thoughts covering my mind are not exactly appropriate," the boy replies, holding his hands behind his back. He takes small steps, staying next to her, but still keeping his distance.

"Must I give you permission to speak?" She questions, but he smiles and shakes his head again.

"The words would only insult, princess." He answers.

"Me?" Emma marvels aloud.

"No, of course not. The boy you were talking to earlier."

"Thomas? what about him?"

"He seems..." Killian hesitates, this girl could have his head on a plate for saying this out loud. He knows, however, that she won't, and continues to talk, choosing his words carefully, "Unpleasant company." To his surprise the princess nods.

"I do believe so, but mother demanded me to be nice to him, because when I'm older, I will be his queen."

"You're what? Six? Seven, are you already engaged?" She punches his arm.

"I'm almost eight!" She exclaims.

"Sorry," he mutters, rubbing his arm, for an almost eight year old, her punch is quite hard.

"It's okay, sorry for hitting you."

"I would have hit back, if you weren't -"

"A princess."

"A girl," he corrects her. She smiles at him, at his honesty and steps closer to him as they walk.

"I have been engaged to him..." Emma trails off, "Well ever since I was born, I suppose. A document was signed when I was six, but they won't announce the wedding officially until I'm twenty, I think." Killian looks at the princess, trying to imagine what she would look like in her twenties, her hair probably even longer, still pale, and maybe even more beautiful.

"I'm sorry your life is this way," he whispers. Emma nods, looking back at him.

"It's my duty, so I will fulfil it."

"You speak big words for a girl your age," Killian notes, "No disrespect," he quickly adds. She laughs, showing her teeth, she's missing her front tooth.

"I forgive you," she replies, "I speak the words my mother chose for me, and the ones she taught me. I suppose she only taught me these big words." Killian holds back a smirk as she talks. She looks at him, curiosity colouring her eyes, "What? She questions. He hesitates before answering.

"So you don't know words like 'ass'?" He whispers, looking around him, making sure no one heard him. She giggles and shakes her head, stepping closer.

"No? What does it mean?" He smirks.

"It means bottom," Killian replies, pointing at his bum.

"Oh! Goodness! Killian!" She exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand. "Can you say such a thing?"

"I can," the boy laughs, "You probably can't," he leans closer, his mouth next to her ear, and almost inaudibly he whispers, "Ass," in a teasing tone. She pushes him away, her eyes wide, her mouth open with surprise. Killian takes a step back, smiling wide as he does.

"It is a good thing your father isn't around to punish you," Emma notes, the boy shrugs as a reply.

"He was the one teaching me the word. You see, he called someone an ass, and I asked what it meant. He explained the word and then said it could also be used for name-calling."

"Name-calling?" She repeats him, frowning a little.

"Like 'idiot' or something," he nods.

"What is 'idiot'?" Emma questions.

"Oh my dear princess!" Killian laughs. "You have so many things to learn."

"It appears I do," Emma smiles, unsure if those are the things she should be learning. But Killian just smiles back.

"It's a good thing I'll be around for a while to teach you," he says as they return back to the castle. Yet she is still undecided over whether she should be taught these things, but she does like the idea of having Killian around, rather than having to spend time with Thomas.


	2. Chapter 2

_Emma age 13 and Killian age 17  
_  
Emma looks up, seeing a guard standing in the doorway, "Mr. Killian Jones is here to see you," he announces, she nods. And he walks in, he has grown yet another few inches. his hair is a bit longer, and his skin is suntanned. This was the first time he had left for two months. Like her, Killian had been forced to grow up sooner and quicker, so that he may take the place of lieutenant as soon as he reaches the age of twenty. He now stands in the doorway, patiently waiting until the guard leaves, his blue eyes meet hers, they radiate safety, something she missed, a lot. The guard leaves and closes the door behind him.

"Hey stranger," Killian smiles, his voice has gotten even deeper, she's already standing up, running towards him and he opens his arms, getting ready to hold her close, and never letting go.

"Hello," she replies as they collide into a hug.

"You have grown," he is still smiling, laying his hands on her back, burying his head in her hair. Her hair smells nice, like vanilla and roses, a subtle scent that, while on the sea, had came to him in his dreams, it made him think of home. Of her.

"I missed you," she whispers against his neck.

"Good," he says, "I missed you too," she pulls back, her hands still in his neck, his hands still on her back.

"You did?" She questions. Killian smirks, letting go of her back to take her face between his hands, pressing his lips against her forehead.

"I would not lie to you, Princess," he replies, "I have missed you a lot." Emma looks up at him, slowly letting go as she realises exactly how they're holding each other. Killian nods, "Sorry," he mutters.

"It is not your fault, I held on to you as well," she gives him a comforting smile, then takes his hand and drags him to her bed. "So, Killian, tell me everything, did you meet any pirates?" They sit down, keeping their distance, and he starts to talk, stories of dangerous waters and swordfights, even pirates. She never takes his eyes off him as he speaks, never once losing her focus, as Killian tells his story he makes grand movements with his arms and hands, pulling her into his story.

"Oh my, it's a miracle you are still alive," she notes as he trails off. Killian gives her a guilty smile.

"Well..." He starts, "I might have exaggerated a few things, but it were my sword fighting skills that have kept me alive, yes," he smirks.

"Teach me," she whispers, "Teach me how to swordfight."

"Yes, and then having my hands cut off for teaching you un-princess-like things, no thanks."

"You have taught me many un-princess-like things," she objects, "and we could to it in secret," they fall silent, until she suddenly jumps off her bed, "About secrets!" She says and she's running towards her closet. The floor shows drag marks, and she shows him why; she moves her wardrobe. A little to the side, showing an entrance to a dark corridor. He stands behind her, looking over her head into the corridors, she looks back at him, telling him to take the candle on her desk, and he does. He hands her the unlit candle.

"Lit, idiot," she mocks him.

"I mentioned I missed you, right?" Killian grins as he takes a match from her drawer, and lights the candle.

"Come on," she takes his hand, and drags him into the darkness of the corridor. It's cold, cold like the night, with an unexplainable breeze.

"So, creepy corridors, how about that?" Killian laughs.

"They end in various places throughout the castle," she tells him, still holding on to his hand, "The harbour, the garden, another in the dungeons, the kitchen and another few who end up in a couple of other rooms, like the weaponry and some of the guestrooms."

"How do you know all this?" He questions, looking around, but all he sees is fire-coloured darkness, stone walls, and a princess, with pink cheeks, long blonde hair in a red gown.

"After you left, they announced Thomas and his father would arrive soon, I spent most days hiding in my room and I noticed that it was colder in the area around the wardrobe," Emma replies, they end up in a small room, about forty by forty feet, each wall with an entrance to another corridor. "I moved the wardrobe and wandered through these corridors," she speaks softly as she lets go of his hand to take the candle from him.

"How did you find the way back?" He questions, but the moment he speaks up he realises the question was unnecessary. She lighted other candles on the ground, showing her carvings on the walls next to the entrances of the other corridors; MY ROOM, KITCHEN, DUNGEONS, HARBOUR.

"This is one of the few rooms," she says, as she turns to face him, his tanned face looks golden brown in the candlelight, "The… eh," she trails off as she notes his eyes staring at her. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'm listening," he answers, "not staring."

"You were staring," she objects and sits down against the cold wall.

"I feel bad for you," Killian sits down right next to her as he speaks, "I mean, you figured out this amazing hidden grit of hallways, but only because you were running away from your fiancé." Emma smiles, breathing out through her nose, and stares at her dress.

"Yes, why can't I just get married to you, will you marry me?" She asks, still smiling, looking up at him. He gives her a pained smile in return and nods.

"Yes, I'll marry you," he promises laying his arm around her, but never could he ever make that promise come true. She would marry a man she hates, and Killian would stand by the sideline, watching and unable of doing anything against it. Emma lays her head on his shoulder and not soon after he feels tears wetting his neck. She trembles as he holds her closer, letting her cry. Her parents barely allowed her to cry, she had to act mature. He wished she didn't have to feel that way, that she could be happy. And right now, he wished he had a title as well, so that he really could marry her. Even if it were only to protect her from Thomas. He had always felt protective over her, but most of the time she didn't need a protective shield, just someone she could be herself with.

"Can you please never leave again?" She mutters softly, her breath is warm against his neck, her voice still sounds broken like her cries.

"I wish, but when I earn the title of lieutenant, I must go on the quests with the ship. So I must leave you sometimes. On the bright side, I'll be able to tell you more stories each time I return," he smiles. She looks up at him, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy. He takes her porcelain face between his hands and wipes away her tears with his thumbs.

"I wish I could come with you, join you in the adventure, live the stories," Emma stands up, "Have you decided you will teach me how to swordfight yet, or not?" He stands up as well, towering over her. In his mind he curses himself, but he nods.

"If you want it so badly, we could do it in here," he smiles, she wraps her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. And the gratitude in her voice, softly spoken, made Killian realize that maybe, even if he shouldn't, he would fulfil his promise one day.

* * *

A few days after his promise she walks through the corridors again, candle in her hand, letting the cold breeze stroke her face, in this warm summer the cold is pleasant. Killian had been absent from the castle almost every day and this for quite a few hours each day. She walks in the small room, lighting the candles. She reaches out for a candle lots higher than she is tall, Killian had put it there, taken the brick out the wall and placed a candle in the hole instead. Suddenly two hands grab her waist.

"Boo," Killian laughs. She screams, dropping the candle on the floor, it extinguishes almost immediately.

"Bloody hell, Killian you are such a boy, don't scare me like that!" She exclaims while turning around, he steps closer, getting ready to hug her.

"I apologise," he smirks in her hair, she pushes him away as he steps even closer.

"Something tells me you are not even sorry," she mutters, he laughs softly.

"Yes, that's why I said _I apologise_, and not _I'm sorry_." He replies. She steps on his foot.

"Stop teasing me like that," she demands him.

"Then don't make it that easy," he replies as he takes the candle off the ground and handing it to her, their hands touch. Her thin fingers feel cold but soft, he hesitates a moment before pulling his hand away, she already rejected his hug. "I got you something," Killian turns around and picks up a bag from the ground, he looks at her as he takes out two swords, while letting the bag fall on the ground back again. "The son of the smith is a friend of mine, I asked him to make me two unsharp swords, so that we can practise in safety." She takes one from his hands, looking at it.

"It's heavy," she notes. Killian smirks.

"I know, that's why this one is yours," he switches the sword she's holding for the one he is holding, and she nods.

"That is better," she replies as she balances the lighter sword in her hands. Her fingertips stroke over the unsharp blade, there is absolutely no way she could ever harm herself with this, or him. She could however give him quite a big headache if she ever decided to hit him in the head with it.

"Like you just demonstrated while running your hand so carelessly over the blade, these swords are harmless, but still," he grabs one of the two pillows off the floor and takes a rope from the bag, "Arms up," he tells her, she lays her sword against the wall and raises her hands in the air. He holds the pillow against her chest and wraps the rope around her twice before knotting it tightly.

"Can you still breathe?" He questions.

"Killian, my dresses are more than skin-tight, I think I can manage a rope thank you very much," she replies, Killian smirks and tugs the rope once more. "Ass," she mutters under her breath.

"Are you sure you are allowed to say that, Princess?" The boy smirks, grabbing his own sword, she hits his butt with her sword and smirks back at him as he turns around quickly.

"I do as I please," Emma answers, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure," Killian starts, while tying the rope around his chest, "Should I be covering my ass or my chest before fighting with you?"

"I can tell you that you should definitely not be covering up that ass, in fact, take your trousers off."

"I wonder where you got that dirty humour, because I doubt that that is something your parents taught you?" He teases poking the pillow on her chest with his sword.

"I wouldn't know, Killian," Emma answers, hitting his sword away with hers, "I think it was the captain's son who taught me that."

"Really?" Killian asks, hitting back at her sword, "Should you even be spending time with that guy?"

"No," she replies, taking a defensive position, "But I can't help myself, he is rather fascinating company."

"Is he now?" He questions as Emma forces him to take a step back. She simply nods as their swords clash again. They continue their carefully hitting each other's sword, Killian sometimes stopping her to hold her sword differently, or taking better notice of her footwork. But most of the time he lets her figure it out herself, she copies his movements, his techniques. Until a point where they hear a door open. It is silent for a while before a whispering voice breaks the silence.

"Princess, are you here?" A female voice says, "It is I, Sophia. A guard is on his way to inform you that dinner is ready to be served." Killian moves quick, dropping his sword to untie Emma's rope.

"Sophia, Killian is with me, they cannot find him in my room," Emma replies, while doing Killian the favour and untying his rope as well. He looks into her eyes, but she shakes her head. "I trust her," she whispers.

"Send him over to the kitchen, Princess," Sophia's voice replies. The pillows fall from their chests on the stone floor with a soft thumb.

"Thank you Sophia," Emma replies, pushing Killian in the corridor that leads to the kitchen. "You'll end up straight in the kitchen. There is a wooden door, it's probably even open now," she says, "I'll see you later."

"See you later," Killian says, still a bit worried that the kitchen help might tell the King and Queen that they were in the corridors together. He could not tell them what they were doing there, but if he would leave it up to their imagination they would probably end up with far worse ideas than teaching their daughter how to swordfight.

"Killian?" Emma questions, he looks back into her eyes, "Stop worrying, and thank you for teaching me this, even though it could bring you trouble." He gives her a kind smile and walks into the darkness. Emma runs back to her room through the dark corridors, she just shoved the closet back into place when someone knocks her door.

"Dinner is ready to be served," it sounds from behind the door, "it will be formal."

"I will go to the dining hall myself, I must change dresses first," she answers, opening her closet - unsure for what occasion her parents would want a formal dinner now.

"If you insist, Princess," the voice replies and footsteps start to sound and fade away in the distance. She takes out a long, broken beige gown, and starts to take off the red one. When she is left in nothing but her chemise she stares at her body. Slowly but surely feminine shapes start to take and soon she will start to bleed, legally making her ready to wed. However she had asked her parents for a postponement on the wedding between her and Thomas, they had agreed and given her until her 23rd birthday, at most, and Emma had been happy, with this arrangement she could spend most of her youth careless about the wedding and careless about having to spend the rest of her years with Thomas. Emma pulls on her new gown and brushes out her hair, tying it into a loose braid.

The door is opened for her by two servants, "Princess Emma," one of them announces. Emma forces on a smile as she walks into the great dining hall. It was barely used, just for special occasions, like birthdays or when Thomas came by. Thomas had once said that the huge crystal chandelier had been unimpressive and that the silver cutlery was outdated, for they used golden cutlery in his kingdom. He had also been unimpressed by the grandeur of the room, the long dining table, the high chairs. Frankly nothing had impressed him at the time, and her mother still tried to make that spoiled boy comfortable. She looked around once more, before taking place next to her mother. Her father sits at the head of the table, and there are two more plates set up; one before Emma and one before her mother.

"Mother, father," she greets them with a polite nod. "Why the formal dinner?" She asks, but before either of them can reply the door is being opened again.

"Mr. Killian Jones, and Captain Jones, here for dinner," the same servant that announced Emma's arrival now announces. She looks up, seeing Killian, but he doesn't look at her. He sits down on the chair in front of her and avoids her eyes, yet, giving both her parents a polite nod, like Emma had done before. Killian's father sits down next to him, opposite her mother.

"My daughter asked me why we are having a formal dinner," King Charming breaks the silence, receiving everyone's attention, a servant walks up to him and hands him a rolled up paper, "It is quite simple," he states while unrolling the paper, "This is a contract, for young mister Jones, stating that the day he turns twenty, he will be made lieutenant," Killian's lips part, the corners of his mouth twist upwards while Emma's father talks, "Of course, there have been words of it, but this document will make it official. With your title comes a room of your own in the east wing, which you may occupy as of tonight and when your father wishes to retire, you will be made Captain," David looks over at Killian, smiling at him, "Is there anything else you wish for?" Emma looks at him, knowing exactly what circles his thoughts now, but he remains silent.

"No, Your Majesty. What you have given me is already much more than I could have even hoped for, I am most grateful," Killian replies politely, David nods once and takes the quill to sign the document, he then seals it with a royal seal and hands it over to Killian.

"Dinner will be served," a servant announces when the doors open, and a buffet is placed on the table.

* * *

After dinner Emma stands up, Killian stands up as well in a reflex. "I am tired," she announces as she looks at him. Killian nods and looks from her to her father, who sits back ungraciously due too many red wines.

"Your Majesty, may I escort your daughter to her room?" He questions the drunken King, he raises his glass of wine and smiles.

"You may," David replies smilingly and takes another sip of wine. Killian walks across the room, offering his arm to Emma, she lays her hand gently on his arm and says goodnight to her parents as they leave the dining hall. The door closes behind them and they are left alone in the empty hallways, they take small steps in the direction of her room. Her hand slides over his arm, until she reaches his hand and their fingers intertwine.

"Congratulations," Emma starts, "All is official when a document is signed," her voice betrays that she is not only talking about his contract, but also about hers. He squeezes her hand softly.

"I would have asked for you," he whispers.

"I know," she replies, while looking at him, "You hesitated. And who knows, maybe one day you will take me away from here," they stop in front of her room.

"Yes, maybe one day," he replies, kissing her hand gently. "Goodnight, love."

* * *

**_AN:_** Reviews are greatly appreciated and very helpful, just even a note on something you liked, didn't like, something I should change? It would help me out a lot!  
I would also like to thank Silvia, for helping me out with my writing, giving me advice, and for being an amazing friend.


	3. Chapter 3

_Emma age 15/16 and Killian age 19_

Swords clash against each other, sounding loudly in the room, soft barefooted steps accompanying the clashing of the swords, this all combined with heavy breathing. The princess, in her soft-green nightgown that flutters with every movement she makes, and the captain's boy, in his wide beige shirt and loose pants, practising their sword fighting in one of the empty rooms of the east wing, not too far from Killian's room. Ever since the first snow had fallen, the dark corridors had been freezing and too cold to practise sword fighting, thus, Emma had brought up the idea of going to that empty room at night and practise there.  
Killian smirks as her sword touches his jaw softly, pressuring softly against his chin.

"Well done," it sounds, once from Killian, and once from a voice in the doorway. Both the boy and the princess drop their swords in response, flinching; as they had not expect anyone to be standing there, especially not her father.

"Care to explain?" The king steps closer, picking up Emma's sword, examining it as he waits for an answer. He runs his fingers over the unsharp blade, hiding a smile from the two of them. The sword has been used quite a lot of times, lost its shine, and has acquired quite a few marks from being clashed against another sword.

"It was my idea," Killian offers, but Emma holds up her hand.

"That is a lie. I obligated him to teach me how to sword fight, and he agreed, since I am the princess, he cannot disobey my orders. Ki- Mr. Jones has no mistake here," Emma straightens her back, making herself taller as she speaks. Lifting her head, trying to keep her posture steady.

"He made the mistake of lying, just a moment ago," David raises his eyebrow, handing her back her sword.

"I'm sorry," Killian mutters, feeling his heartbeat raise, frozen in his place. "I wanted to -"

"Keep my daughter out of trouble, I am aware," the King replies, and picks up Killian's sword as well, like Emma's, Killian's sword is unsharp as well. Clever, he thinks, to use unsharp blades so that they cannot harm each other. "It appears though, that the both of you have a talent for sword fighting, for my daughter, I am unsure if this skill will be of any use. But for you, Mr. Jones, it will be," King David gives him a smile, while handing back his sword as well. "And for that reason, I will hire a tutor, for the both of you."

"Father..." Emma starts, but her father shakes his head.

"Consider it a birthday present."

"The Princess' birthday is tomorrow," Killian notes, "But mine isn't in weeks, and I have already gotten my birthday present..."

"Very well," King David shrugs, "Not a birthday present, how about we call it a favour? And in return, you stop keeping my men busy at night by making them think there are intruders sword fighting in the castle, _idiots_," he mutters that last bit. It isn't until the King himself gives Killian a smile, that Killian smiles in return, realising he isn't angry. Maybe the King would have allowed for him to marry his daughter, if she wasn't engaged to Thomas. But the Queen would never. For some reason, she never really liked him all that much. Even if his intentions were good.

"Now, will you please go to bed, both of you?" They nod and King David turns around walking out of the room, followed by the princess and the boy, "That I have turned around," the King starts, "Does not mean I cannot hear you," he says and takes a few steps further in the hallway, making both Killian and Emma realises that he is allowing them to say a timid goodnight. Killian smiles down on her, taking her hand and kissing it softly.

"Remember you promised me you'd dance with me on your ball tomorrow," he smiles.

Emma nods, "But I cannot promise you I will not step on your toes."

"As long as it is not on purpose."

"I cannot make such promise either," she teases him. "Goodnight, Mr. Jones."

"Goodnight, Princess," he whispers. Emma turns around, stepping next to her father and together they walk towards their own rooms in the west wing.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" Her father questions as he hears a door closing.

"I like him," she nods.

"But do you love him?"

"I love that he is far more enjoyable company than Thomas."

"Would you marry Killian over Thomas?" Emma stops walking, looking him in the eyes.

"What are you asking? If I have feelings for Killian? Then no, I don't. Not anymore at least. I have fought them for so long, because I knew that they were useless. I am supposed to marry someone who doesn't love me. But if you would let me choose, I would definitely marry Killian over Thomas."

"Even if it isn't in the benefit of your realm?"

"What about my benefit, you married for love too. Now father if you please, I wish to not talk about it anymore," her father nods, and in silence they continue their walk. She clenches her fists, taking a small breath and closing her eyes briefly, all a useless attempt of keeping her tears back. Her father is aware of it, but like she asked he does not talk about it. He does however, feel helpless as he sees tears roll over his daughter's cheeks, he takes her hand, but she does not speak up. Her eyes still looking straight in front of her as she walks. Crying in silence. She had never admitted out loud that she had or could have had feelings for Killian. And talking about it only made those small feelings come back. Small feelings she once had, when she had fallen for his safety, his smirks, his smiles, his kindness, him. Feelings she fought, because she knew they were useless, and along the way she was able to, not exactly forget about them, but accept that she would never be with him and that these feelings would leave eventually.

Emma squeezes her father's hand when they stand in front of her room, "Goodnight," she whispers. He lays his hand on the back of her neck and pulls her close to press a kiss in her hair.

"I love you, sweetheart, don't you forget it."

"I love you too, father," she whispers, pulling him in a hug.

"And I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispers against her hair.

"I know that," Emma closes her eyes as she buries her head into his chest, "But I will marry Thomas, for the sake of my realm, and maybe we can learn to love each other," she offers, trying to sound happy and convincing as she speaks.

"All right," the King smiles, letting go of his daughter, "Goodnight, Emma."

* * *

She's holding on to the windowsill while her servant pulls the strings off her corset. Emma turns around as the door opens, her mother standing in the doorway, wearing a beautiful white gown.

"Let me," she smiles, dismissing the servant with her hand as she walks toward her daughter. "Everything all right?" Snow questions as she takes the strings in her hands, pulling it gently. Emma nods once while taking a breath.

"Just..." She stares outside, seeing more carriages stopping in front of the castle. Princesses and princes, kings and queens, important people, they all step out of their carriages and walk over the red carpet, rolled from the road until the gate of the castle. "A lot of people for a princess who turns sixteen."

"Sixteen is an important age and you are an important girl," her mother smiles, taking Emma's dark red grown from her bed, helping her put it on. The fabric falls on the ground, causing her mother to frown.

"I wish I wasn't," she replies softly but her mom pretends not to hear, like she always does when she has no answer ready.

"I thought this gown fit you? It seems too long."

"I'm still barefooted mother, I need to wear shoes underneath, then it will fit." Her mother nods. The gown feels light, it would have allowed her to breathe if it weren't for the corset. The sleeves are three-quarter length, and the length of the gown itself does not really bother Emma, really, it's even pleasant to be covered up like that.

They walk out of Emma's room, side by side. As they walk there is a silence between them, an uncomfortable silence, yet no one seems to have an answer. A grateful feeling washes over Emma as she sees Killian in the hallway, talking to his father. He flashes her a quick smile, nodding at her. She smiles back at him, perhaps admitting her feelings for him last night wasn't such a good idea, especially when he appeared to her in a dream. Perhaps she should have just lied.

"Mr Jones, Mr Jones," her mom nods at them, they take a quick bow.

"Your Majesties," they answer in choir followed by a "happy birthday," towards Emma.

"May I escort Your Majesty to the ballroom?" Killian's dad offers his hand to Snow.

"You may," she smiles, taking his hand. As they turn around Killian offers his hand to Emma.

"Princess," he teases, knowing how much she hates being called that.

"Jones," she mutters, taking his hand with a firm grip. He pulls her closer as they walk, leaning towards her ear.

"I was going to mention how beautiful you look, but sadly I am too distracted by my broken hand," he grins. She sticks out her tongue, but he only grins wider.

"Is he here yet?" Emma whispers, releasing her firm grip. The captain's son nods, stroking his thumb over her soft fingers in an attempt to ease her nerves.

"You only have to dance once with him tonight, that's obligated, but for the rest of the night you can dance with me," he continues to stroke over her fingers, as she looks into his blue eyes. They're kind as ever, suiting his charming face. Emma remembers when her mother told her stories of how she called King David 'Prince Charming' when she didn't yet know his name. Well, Killian Jones was every bit as worthy of that name.

They walk into the ballroom, and are immediately greeted by a lot of people wishing her a happy birthday. Somewhere in the midst of all the fuss, Killian had let go of her hand, leaving her alone with the people. Once she realises he is gone, another hand has already taken its place. Thomas'.

"Happy birthday," he mutters in a tone that makes her think 'and I hope you die so I don't have to marry you' followed in his mind. She simply smiles.

"Thank you, Thomas," Emma answers, he squeezes her hand as she tries to pull back, wishing he would let go. His hand is too warm and sweaty. She greets some of the guests, thanks them for their presents and birthday wishes, all with Thomas by her side. Emma is unsure if he doesn't leave her side because he is forced to stay, or because otherwise Killian will take his place. But probably it's the last option.

King David paces towards them, taking his daughter in an embrace. Thomas lets go of her hand, allowing for her to hold on to her father.

"Happy birthday, love," he whispers in her hair.

"Thank you," she replies, but not for the birthday wishes. The King lets go of her as a servant stands behind him, requesting his attention.

"Dinner is ready to be served, Your Majesty," the woman smiles. He nods and tells her to make the announcement. And she does, a stream of people start to make their way to the dining room, and that's where she loses Thomas. Her arm is gently touched as she tries to step aside from the crowd.

"Hi," Killian smiles, as they stand aside, waiting for the crowd to walk by them. "Shouldn't they let you go first?"

"Or maybe I stood still, hoping the place next to Thomas will be taken," Emma replies, covering Killian's hand with hers. He nods.

"Well, the bad news is," he starts, "There are nameplates and you are indeed seated next to him. The good news is, Princess, that you have two sides, and I'm seated on the other side," he smiles and takes her hand to guide her towards the table. He pulls her chair back for her and she sits down, thanking him quietly. The great dining hall had been made a place for hundreds of guests, not just one long table. In the back, looking over the room, was the main table. Where her parents sat in the middle, the Captain next to her father, Killian next to his, Emma next to Killian and Thomas next to her. Emma's mother sat next to her father, and next to Thomas' mother, and Thomas' father sat next to his wife, and they brought their advisor.

King David stood up, no one realised but Emma. He smiled at her while nodding at Killian, making her realise it was his idea to place them next to each other. He then ticks his knife against his crystal wineglass.

"Friends, family," he starts, his voice clear and loud, so that he could fill the entire room. "You are most welcome in our castle, to celebrate with us, the sixteenth birthday of my beautiful daughter, Emma," he smiles raising his glass at her. The guests follow his example. "To Emma."

"To Emma," it sounds through the dining room, she had never heard her name being spoken by so many voices at once before. It sounded weird, but yet there was one voice that came above it. Not because he yelled, but because he pronounced her name with so much love and kindness. When the doors open, the servants come in with the food. When everyone is distracted by the servants she looks next to her. Killian sits back, with his wineglass against his lips, looking at her. He winks at her as he takes a sip of the wine. When he winked at her, he gave her a feeling warmer than the alcohol slipping down her throat. He gave her the feeling of wanting to say her thoughts out loud, even with her fiancé sitting right next to her on the other side. For my birthday, Killian Jones, I want you to share my bed with me. She bites her bottom lip and turns around, finding that a plate had already been set in front of her.

* * *

After dinner, The King rises from his chair, demanding the guests' attention once again by ticking his knife against his - now for the fourth time filled - wineglass.

"When you have finished dinner, return to the ballroom, a band will be playing live music, and there will be servants making sure your glass will not be empty, in a few hours there will be fireworks," King David smiles, nodding as if to give them permission to leave.

"Emma shall we dance now, so that we can get this over with?" Thomas whispers, his breath smelling of the many wines he had. Emma nods, getting up from her chair. In a way, Thomas not wanting to marry her as well was kind of good, because things like this could be easily agreed on.

"I eh, don't know how to dance," she mutters as he lays his arms around her. The boy shrugs.

"I don't care, it's only one dance, just don't step on my feet," the alcohol had softened him, as it turns out. Or maybe he was now in a complete state of I couldn't care any less anymore right now. Whatever it was, she had to enjoy it while it lasted. Which wouldn't be for long.

"You love the Captain's boy, don't you?" Thomas suddenly asks when they are dancing for a while. They are no longer the only ones on the dance floor, everybody could hear their conversation now.

"He's not a boy," Emma objects.

"I'll take that as a yes," Thomas murmurs, tightening his grip on her. "He loves you too, I can see it by the way he looks at you."

"I will marry you," she assures him silently, pushing herself closer to him so that his grip wouldn't hurt so much. Thomas smirks, kissing her cheek.

"I know, and even if I don't like you," his breath feels warm as he speaks against her skin, "I will take pleasure in taking you away from your love," Thomas lets go of her. "Thank you for the dance, Princess," he spits, kissing her hand and leaving her to accept a drink from one of the servants.

"May I have this dance, Your Majesty?" Emma turns on her heels, finding Killian standing in front of her. She doesn't even bother to hide her relief as she takes his hand.

"I'm not sure if this dance should be danced to?" She arches her eyebrow, but he simply shrugs.

"Who cares right?" he laughs, dragging her around the room, pretending to know the dance moves. But instead he just jumps around and she follows him.

After a few dances, Emma had taken off her shoes, and the princess was now dancing on her socks. The cold of the tiles came through, but as long as she danced it was okay. The music starts to slow down, and so do they. He lays her arm around her waist, taking her hand with the other. She places her free hand on his shoulder, finding it odd because she had never touched him there before. Frankly she had never touched him anywhere but his hands before. And even if it was an odd feeling, it was also a pleasant feeling.

"Ready?" He questions, Emma nods, "This dance I do know, so just follow my lead." Again, Emma nods, following his footsteps. Eventually, the moves have been placed in her head, eight simple moves, repeated over and over. She looks up at him, and he looks back, if only Thomas looked at her that way, maybe if he did, being nice to him wouldn't be such a hard task. With Killian looking at her right now, right here, the words that she has swallowed back for so long are back on the tip of her tongue, almost slipping through her closed lips. Suddenly he nods, as if reading her mind, and this for the second time tonight.

"Me too," he replies in a soft voice. Emma stares at him in silence, being almost completely certain he knows what's going on in her mind. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Yes..." Emma mutters, "me too." His arm tightens around her, pulling her closer, making sure no one could overhear this conversation.

"Emma, I would say it out loud," he uses the same soft, steady voice, "I am not afraid of the words, I am only afraid of hurting you even more."

"You only hurt me if you left me."

"But you and I both know that I will have to soon." Emma smiles and shakes her head.

"Why are you always so bloody honest with me?" Killian returns her smile and stops to dance as the music changes.

"Shall we go outside?"

"Yes, but let me get my shoes and cape," she smiles.

When she comes back to the hall, Killian is already standing outside. It stopped snowing, but the snow must be at least four inches thick. He smiles as she closes the glass doors behind her.

"The Lady in red," he smiles, taking her in. She looks beautiful, yet somewhat fearsome in her red dress and her even darker cape. "You look like you could rule a world," Killian smirks as she steps closer. He reaches out to her hood, pulling it over her head. "Glare," he tells her, and she does. "Yes, you would look very fearsome, if it weren't for that smile that will break through in three, two, ..." and before he is able to say one she bursts into laughter. "No ruler of the world then," he grins, watching her as she laughs.

"If you were Thomas, I would have been able to keep that glare up,"

"Yes, but thankfully I am not Thomas," he ticks her nose with his finger. She steps even closer, allowing very little space between them, and stands tiptoe in front of him.

"I'm aware you are not, because I have a desire to kiss you, all the time. A desire I've never had with Thomas," she whispers seductively. Killian clenches his jaw, balling his fists, restraining himself from reaching out to her and pull her into a kiss. It is unfair of her to behave like this, but yet he realised long ago what her plan is. Eventually one day, instead of letting him go, she will seduce him into taking her along. And he will obey.

"What are you doing?!" Thomas' hoarse voice sounds behind them, Emma turns around the boy steps closer - each time Killian takes a breath, his chest touches her shoulder. Thomas is only a year older, and a tad bit taller as Emma, but he is so intimidating towards her, all the time. Killian however is still a few inches taller than Thomas, three years older, and not exactly intimidated by Thomas himself, more by his power.

"We danced too much, I felt like I was burning up, so I requested to go outside since I didn't want to go alone," Emma answers.

"Really, why didn't you ask someone to accompany you, who you are... you know, engaged to?" Thomas gives her a dead smile. He clearly drank enough to have passed the 'I could not care less' state and now hated her even more.

_Because you are unpleasant company, that's why_. "I could not find you," she answers.

"Bullshit!" Thomas exclaims. Emma looks behind her, facing Killian, wordlessly demanding an explanation for the word she does not know. But he keeps his eye contact with Thomas. "If I hadn't come here, you would have kissed her, wouldn't you?"

"I would never," Killian's voice is clear as he speaks, he has mastered the talent of lying, and yet, he has never lied to Emma, only for her. "I know my place, Your Majesty, I am merely her friend."

"Please," Thomas snorts, stepping closer, pulling Emma away from Killian. "Emma dear, you belong to me, you know that right?" Emma nods obediently, as Thomas digs his nails into her arm while dragging her down the slippery staircase that leads to the garden. Thomas holds on to the railing as he goes down, so that he wouldn't fall over. Emma on the other hand has to pace up to keep up with him and when on the last chair she slips and falls face first. If Thomas hadn't let go of her she wouldn't have fallen, but he did, as if he knew she would fall and he enjoyed watching her suffer the pain he caused her. "Get up!" He yells. Killian who had been running down the stairs right behind them, helps her back on her feet.

"How about you don't touch her, Jones." Thomas hisses.

"How about you start treating her with respect!" Killian yells. Thomas smiles. He knew that everybody has a trigger point. And for Killian Jones, it was her.

"Killian, don't," Emma mutters, swiping the snow off her gown.

"But..." He starts, but she shakes her head.

"Yeah Jones, listen to the girl who will never be yours," Thomas smirks, triggering Killian to step forward, rising his fist to punch Thomas in his face. Killian is suddenly dragged back, he looks at his arm, Emma is holding onto his arm, a horrified look on her face.

"What have you done?" She whispers, imagining the consequences if Thomas told anyone. Thomas rubs over his eye and makes movements to hit Killian back.

"Don't," Emma objects, stepping in front of Killian, readying herself for the impact.

"Emma, step aside," Thomas hisses.

"No, he's not worth it," she holds up her hand a gesture to stop him. Instead, he takes her hand and drags her away from Killian, pushing her against the stone hard wall. The cold along with the pain of the uneven stone wall aches her back. She squeezes her eyes shut, biting the pain away.

"Does that hurt, sweetheart?" He spits his words like poison. She doesn't nod, he would not show her compassion anyway. Thomas smirks and presses her harder against the wall. The uneven stones have seem to have found the worst pressure points in her back.

"Stop it!" Killian yells, "You're hurting her!" Thomas suddenly turns around and gives Killian an unexpected punch with his fist, right underneath his eye. Killian shakes his head, unsure what just happened. His cheek feels a bit numb, aside from a sharp pain on his cheekbone.

"Shut your poor mouth and step away," Thomas demands, Killian blinks once, trying to process what Thomas said, but kind as he is, he repeats it straight into Killian's face, "Step away! Step away that is a damn order!"

"Killian, it's okay..." Emma whispers, her soft voice eases the pain in his head a little and he nods, taking two small steps back.

"Stand still, right there and don't move," Thomas gives him a dirty smile before turning around again to face Emma, "Kiss me, Emma," Thomas demands her and presses his lips rudely against hers. Killian turns his head away, looking at the ground. Trying to block the sound of them kissing. It should have been him kissing her, but softer, and not against a stone hard wall while hurting her. A hard shoulder presses in his chest. "She's mine, Jones and don't you forget it," Thomas smiles and leaves the scene, walking up the staircase back inside. He turns his head, facing Emma, she's staring at him with big watery eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her hands clenching, wordlessly asking him for some sort of safety. He reaches out for her, letting her lean her head against his chest as he wraps his arms around him.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, kissing her hair.

"Me too," she whispers back, pushing him away softly, taking his face between her hands while examining his eye, "Maybe we should take you to the kitchen, to lay some ice on that, or a steak or something?"

"I'll be fine," he gives her a small smile, and even that, he feels in his cheekbone, a stretching pain. She presses her lips tenderly on his cheekbone, the cold of her lips feels great, but sadly the burning of his cheek has warmed her lips in a short moment, and she pulls away. "Thank you," Killian whispers, she gives him a small smile and lets go of his face.

"We should really just go to the kitchen for some ice," she frowns, "it'll stop the bruising."

"And what will we tell them?" Emma shrugs and drags him to one of the secret corridors.

"I'm the princess," she says as she opens the door to the corridor. "I do not owe people explanations." Killian tries to keep himself from smiling, but even that causes stinging pain in his cheek. Maybe Thomas had hit him way harder than he originally thought. Emma opens the wooden door to the kitchen, revealing the servants and maids, all cleaning the dishes and putting them back to their places.

"Princess," Sophia notes, laying the cutlery she was drying down, to take a bow. The other servants and maids do the same.

"No, no, rise," she urges them. "Do you have any ice, please?"

"Of course," Sophia answers. Killian steps out of the corridor as well, "Mr. Jones, are you all right?" She asks.

"Yes, Sophia, I am, thank you. The Princess however, worried soul that she is, suggested I should come for some ice, so here I am." Sophia nods hastily, taking some ice from the cooler and wrapping it in a towel. Emma takes it from her, holding it against his cheek as they sit down at the table.

"What happened?" Sophia asks, sitting down across the table. Emma looks up. "I asked Mr. Jones, because I am not allowed to ask questions to the royalty," she explains to no one in particular. Emma smiles and looks back at Killian. Sophia wasn't a kind of smart that could be measured in numbers, or by the way she read - because she couldn't. But Sophia was clever, she found her way around the rules and made it this way you could not punish her for a rule she crossed. Not that Emma ever would. But yet, Emma admired her for that skill, and thought of her as clever and intelligent.

"I was accidentally punched in the face by someone while I was dancing," Killian answers, again with the lies. Suddenly Emma looks up as she hears a loud bang.

"The fireworks!" Emma exclaims, Killian takes the towel in his hand, allowing her to let go.

"Go," He assures her.

"Thank you for your help, Sophia," Emma smiles as she gets off her chair, disappearing behind the wooden door again. She runs through the cold corridors and the snow, slowly on the stairs, blending in with the crowd that stands on the balcony watching the fireworks. Thomas being the only to notice her, because he was the only one that didn't care for the fireworks, for her fireworks.

"Oh Emma, here you are," her mother smiles, laying her arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"I was cold and got my cape," Emma explains as she watches the fireworks

* * *

She closes the door behind her, feeling a chill stroke her face.

"You're here, aren't you?" Her bed creaks.

"How did you know, I wanted to scare you," Killian's laughter fills the darkness. She opens the curtains, letting the moonlight illuminate her room. She turns around and he is standing behind her, space still between them, his blue eyes never looked so clear than with the moonlight in reflecting in them.

"I felt the chill, there's only a chill when the wardrobe has been moved." Emma replies. "You know that was my first kiss," she mutters, "He stole my first kiss away from me," her anger colours her voice.

"That was to happen eventually," Killian whispers, and she nods.

"I know... It was the way he did it; rude, he forced his tongue in my mouth," his eyes looking straight into hers with difficulty, finding it hard to listen to it all over again.

"I always thought my first kiss would be gentle, tender and caring, kind of like I imagine your kisses to be," he gives her a small smile as she speaks. She then takes a step closer, her face dangerously close to hers, "Will you kiss me, Killian?" She asks, her voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

"No, I eh... I can't," he replies, but he does not step away, giving away that he does want that feeling of her lips on his.

"Please?" She pleads. He takes a deep breath, hesitating, but his mind had been made up. Even if she hadn't pleaded, he would have kissed her. Killian takes her chin between his pointer finger and thumb, parting her lips a little before pressing his lips gently against hers. A warm feeling comes over the both of them, a feeling neither should have. A feeling of desire and lust and a bit of fear. Fear that someone might find out, but more fear of having these feelings, for a person who can never be theirs. Killian pulls back, his face still close to hers, giving Emma the chance to take his face in her hands and pull him back. She can feel her heartbeat rising in her chest. He lays his hands on her waist, making Emma feel a tingling sensation where his hands are on her waist just where his lips touch hers. His grip becomes firmer, as if trying to take her in, losing himself in that kiss. She slides her hands from his face to his neck, dragging him closer. Killian takes small steps backwards, letting him fall on the bed, Emma on top of him. She's laughing softly as she pulls back. They stare at each other, both slightly out of breath, but both with a smile covering their faces, the most genuine smile one has ever seen from another. Emma leans back in, stealing more kisses, but he gladly gives them.

"Princess," he whispers suddenly, she shakes her head.

"No, don't," she mutters, time has learnt her that each time he called her princess, he would push her away again. Killian sits up straight, the princess in his lap. "Killian, please."

"You don't understand," he answers, "I could lose everything here, my chance for a title as lieutenant, my head, my hands, or worse, I could lose you," he lays his hand on her cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb, she takes her hand in hers, pressing her lips against the palm of his hand.

"I wish I wasn't a princess," she whispers against his hand. Killian gives her a small smile.

"Or that I was a prince," he offers. Emma shakes her head, dropping both their hands on their laps.

"I don't want a prince, I don't want all of these duties, I want adventure, like you, seeing places," she sighs, playing with his fingers. "Remember when I was twelve, the first time you came back from a mission with your dad, you made me a promise..." She trails off, looking in his eyes.

"One that I could never fulfil," Killian adds.

"Take me away, marry me elsewhere," she lays her head in his neck, letting the silence fall. She is dreaming out loud, and he loves her enough to not rob her of that dream. He lets go of her hands to lay down again, her head onto his chest. His fingers stroke over her back as he stares at the ceiling, finding the idea of taking her with him so tempting. But his father would never allow for him to steal the princess. His father would never even take the princess aboard without permission of her parents. "Killian, I have been thinking," she starts, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" He whispers, she can feel his chest buzz as he speaks.

"I need to be a virgin in order to keep our engagement valid, if I were to, say, go to bed with," she hesitates, choosing her next words carefully, "another man... My indiscretion would put an end to our agreement," Killian laughs as she speaks, her head rising and falling with his chest. "Stop laughing," she demands him as she continues to speak, "No one with a title would have me, but you would, right?" She leans on her arms, looking in his eyes. Killian nods.

"I would, but in order to marry you I would have to be alive."

"I won't tell anyone that it was you," she whispers.

"Okay, you won't tell them it was me. And who else of remotely your age do you know, that could be the one to do it?" Emma sighs, letting herself fall down next to him.

"They would immediately know it was you," Emma nods. "Killian?" She questions softly, "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Okay," he replies, turning to his side, letting her come closer.

"One last kiss?"

"Emma..." Killian sighs, but she stops him, laying her finger on his lips.

"Just one more kiss, and then never again," she promises him.

"One," he agrees.

And they made it the longest kiss they shared so far.

* * *

**_A.N.: _**as usual, reviews are greatly appreciated! I would also like to take this note to bring to your attention that I have written another Captain Swan fic. And if there are readers of the Hookriel fic I once wrote, I might update that one soon as well.

But thank you, a lot, for the reviews!


End file.
